


Trapped In A Moment

by Junebug1312



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bottom Dean Winchester, Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Smut, Soulless Sam Winchester, Truth Spells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:35:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25683649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Junebug1312/pseuds/Junebug1312
Summary: After finding out Dean has been hiding some pretty sinful secrets from Soulless Sam, they end up fucking. But once Sam gets his soul back, Sam doesn't know if they will ever be able to go back to normal. Or if he even wants too.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 77





	Trapped In A Moment

**Author's Note:**

> AH! It's been a while! I hope you enjoy something that has been sitting in my notes for years.

“Are you going to tell them or should I?” 

The question that became a catalyst for this entire mess. At the time Sam was curious rather than worried, whatever his brother seemed to be hiding couldn’t contrast to the mess Sam had just landed them in. Demons roaming free, a couple of them already killing a happily married man right in front of his young wife. But these weren’t normal demons. They were the seven deadly sins, Lust, Greed, Sloth, Envy, Pride...and here they were face to face with Lust herself and she was giving Dean the most curious look.

“What’s she talking about Dean?” Sam questioned not taking his hard eyes off of the perpetrator.

Lust licked her lips mischievously, evil satisfaction washing over her face. Even stuck in ropes she managed to appear laid back as if she was the one in control. Her thin lips quirked into a content smirk as she saw Dean hesitate while replying.

“Nothing Sam she’s just...trying to get a rise out of us”

Lust’s nonchalant smirk grew into a perfectly straight teethed grin, eyes sparkling with pure delight.

“You sure about that boy?”

The amount of space between Dean's answers and Lust replies advanced Sam's interest. Dean was an almost perfect con man growing up in small hometown bars playing for big bucks with dough eyes and a naive smile. There’s no way a simple demon would be getting too Dean this much unless there was something to be found out.

Lusts eyes scanned Deans tentative form, her head tilting gradually to the side, “Fascinating”

Dean growled and frantically opened the bottle of holy water throwing it in Lust's eyes. Lust screeched with the long wail ending in a maniac laugh. Her eyes flickered black as holy water ran down her cheeks burning her supple skin with precision.

“Come on let’s kill it she doesn’t know anything” Dean urged.

And Sam knew that tone all too well. This was how Dean acted when he was backed into a corner and that piqued Sams attention. He let his eyes drift over to his brother's stone-cold face and only someone who spent every day with him would see the fear embedded in the minute quiver of his lip.

“Oh, but on the contrary” she simpered, “Perhaps I know too much wouldn't you say, Dean?”

With each spoken word, Sam’s intrigue was growing. What exactly was Dean hiding from the room, that nobody seemed to know? Bobby’s eyes were glued on Dean as well while no one pulled the trigger on this horrid creature.

“So much” she paused sniffing in deeply, “Repressed lust”

Dean tensed, the tendons in his arms straining while the veins in his neck popped out. Dean hardly ever became frozen especially when it came to hunting but it seemed this...thing had cracked his demeanour.

“I wonder who for?” 

Suddenly as if an earthquake had shaken Dean loose from his spot a gun was going off and a moment later everybody was staring at the body of a young woman lifeless. The hand holding the gun was shaking slightly and was still extended.

“Dean! We could’ve exorcised her!” Bobby’s gruff voice entered the room like a stranger, totally unexpected.

“It was too late” Dean stated emotionlessly, “The demon was occupying an empty vessel”

Sam's eyebrows drew together knowing that Dean had no clue if a woman resided inside that body or not. But the expression Dean wore was unlike any he had ever seen. A helpless little boy.

“He’s—“ Tamera coughed uncertainly holding the book of possession spells, “—He’s right, I saw multiple stab wounds earlier at the diner, she would’ve died anyway”

She tossed the book aside and walked away mindlessly, tiredly. Bobby smoothed his hand down his beard in thought eyeing Dean warily. Soon he sighed and wandered after Tamera unable to decipher the actions of Dean at the moment. That left him and Sam in the room and of course Sam had a million brewing questions to unload onto Dean.

“Repressed lust?”

Dean broke out of his stance at Sams's words. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed harshly giving the impression of trying to regain his normal breathing rhythm.

“Demons lie Sammy”

And that’s all Sammy would get from Dean. Day after day no matter how many times Sam prodded at his brother Dean remained stoic in his belief that the demon was just screwing with his head. But Sam saw the twitch of Dean’s fingers as he dug his nails into his palms when he answered Sams questions and knew that there was something else there. Soon enough that became a second priority in Sam’s mind due to Lucifer. And then a new monster appeared for them to conquer and weeks turned into years where the question was a quiet fizzle in Sam’s ears every time he laid his head to his pillow. And it stayed put in his mind unable to escape unless Sam allowed it too. Other things became more important and took over the mindless questions that knocked at Sam's brain. 

Then Sam returned from hell and he felt nothing. Nothing wasn’t bad. It was just a constant thing in his head becoming valuable every time it came to solving a difficult problem. Now he thought logically unable to become emotionally invested in anything which included his brother and he just assumed he had become hard and rigid. Bordering on the edge of morally corrupt. Like his brother had always wanted. But now his brother was looking at him like a thing they hunted rather than a normal person who just simply didn’t have it in him to care. And they were in a town where the truth was spilling from the gutters like water after a big rainfall. 

When Sam opened his eyes after being presumably knocked out he was tied in a basement close to his brother. The light was blinding and he squinted to shelter his eyes. A woman was pacing back and forth in the harsh light and Sam could only make out her shadow before his eyes could adjust. Her hair was brown and curly and her dress was made from gold. She fit the card to a tee, a goddess she definitely was, known as Veritas. Sam wasn’t amused though, he knew that getting out of this was the main priority no matter if his brother followed his plan or not. 

“Truth or truth?” Dean spit out mockingly.

Sam tuned into the conversation again unaware his focus had been elsewhere for a few minutes as he calculated the outcomes of the situation. The goddess smiled cockily and ran her hands delicately up her dress.

“Yes and I'd like to start with you Dean seeing as I can practically taste the lies dancing on your tongue” she grinned wide and it reminded Sam of a snake unhinging its jaw to catch its prey.

The questions were mundane at first and Sam gently began to tug at his ropes hoping to find a weak spot. He didn’t pay attention to the redness of his brother's face as he was forced again and again to spill his secrets until a particularly intriguing question popped up.

“How do you really feel about your brother?”

The room went silent melting away any outside distractions from Sam’s mind. Even though he was privy to the short side glances and clenched jaws his brother would send his way secretly he’d always assumed it was his brother thinking he was some sort of freak. But Dean usually could just say that to his face especially now that Sam was back from actual hell. 

Dean just quivered though struggling uselessly against his ropes, Sam had never seen his brother so graceless. Dean hunted with particular tact but it seemed that this simple question pinned him down and left him struggling for breath. That’s when Lust snapped back into his head and how the question she had asked him had a similar effect on his brother. Through the other questions, Dean had been a shade of summer rose but now his face was winter ice, pale and cracked.

“Answer” she prodded using her spell work to pull the confession from his chest.

“I feel” Dean winced trying his hardest to fight off the spell, “strongly about him”

A sultry smile played on her lips, “How so?”

Sam, for some reason, expected that this goddess already knew the answer.

Dean scrunched his eyes shut in a moment of weakness and although Sam hadn’t felt much these past weeks a faint twinge of the memory of what unease felt like pressed into him.

“I’m scared of him” Dean replied truthfully “Something is definitely wrong with him and he won’t tell me what’s going on but hell I can’t blame him 'cause of the things I won’t tell him”

She kneeled down to face Dean stroking his chin softly with her fingertips, “And what is that Dean? What won’t you tell him?”

Dean trembled and while Sam listened intently he was also scrambling to put together a cogent plan. His forbearing brother diminished to a wounded animal in this predator's presence. 

“I thought it was just a phase when I was younger trapped in motel rooms day after day with one person. I reasoned with myself that it was normal—that I was normal” Dean breathed in heavily, “But then we grew up and these... _feelings_ never went away and I’ve done so well nearly damn perfect hiding it from him, even from myself”

“Dean” the goddess stopped him abruptly, an intense stare on her face and eyes blazing with intention, “How do you feel about him?”

Dean’s throat constricted as if the truth was now being choked out of him from the inside and Sam could feel the dam break before he witnessed it.

“I want him ok? I want to fuck him.”

Sam felt like a strong breeze was rushing throughout the room and he was waiting for the expected emotions to plummet through his body but he was left with an empty nothingness. Worse, he wasn’t scared of his lack of emotions because apparently, he didn’t know how to feel anything. He just turned the idea of his brother wanting to fuck him in his head over and over trying to search for the emotional outburst buried beneath years of torture and grief. But all that came up were logistical properties of the statement. And he found that...maybe that’s what he wanted too. If anything it would probably bring them closer and would meet both of their needs without putting themselves in unneeded danger. In fact, it was an almost perfect answer to any succubus case.

And after when Sam had killed Veritas wishing nothing more than to rip each dark-haired strand from her head he was still thinking about it. And very obviously Dean was as well. Yet maybe it was due to this woman confirming that something was wrong with Sam after attempting to give him the same questionnaire with no results. But Sam didn’t have time to care about what she thought of him, he was fine and practical. That’s all. His brother didn’t seem to see it that way though.

“What is wrong with you Sam? What the fuck is wrong with you!?” Dean screeched shaking him against the wall of their shitty motel.

And Sam had no reaction because that just seemed to be the case nowadays so he stared at Dean curiously. He didn’t care that Dean was angry and he didn’t care that he didn’t care. Everything felt like too much and too little at the same time. Like he was stuck in that crack between emotion and logic in his brain and came up empty-handed for an answer.

"I don't understand what you mean Dean" he tried to apply emotion to his voice but it came out much more analytical than he intended.

Dean huffed out an irritated laugh, "Really? Cause you sound like a fucking robot!"

Sam's eyebrows furrowed as he stored that information away so he could work on his tone and inflictions. He didn't like seeing Dean so agitated, his face was turning red with frustration, hands moving around much more than when he was calm.

"Not to mention how you haven't said a _fucking_ thing about what happened in that bitches lair" Dean's tone wavered as his eyes flickered away from Sam's face, "My sappy emotional, chick-flick little brother not saying a goddamn thing? You don't think that's suspicious?"

"What...would you want me to say?" Sam questioned, adjusting his tone accordingly to make it sound more sincere.

Dean's eyebrows raised, shock erupting in his eyes. Slowly he backed away from the wall with a familiar glimmer of worry bordering fear circling his pupils.

"What the hell Sam?" Dean inquired though Sam had enough sense to take that question as rhetorical. 

He wandered over to the squeaky motel bed with the ugly floral bedspread and sat down heavily forcing the bed to actually dip under his weight. He shoved his face into his hands, smoothing them down his cheeks slowly, lost deep in thought. Sam blinked warily at him dissecting the best approach to take in this situation. Force was off the table since violence didn't seem applicable when dealing with his brother like this and affection passed over his head like a plane. Sam sighed and followed his brother, sitting down close but not close enough to scare Dean away.

"I guess I don't see what the big deal is" Sam confessed, his features softening through practiced efforts he had made in the mirror earlier, "Us fucking...is it really such a crazy concept?"

Dean's head whipped over so fast that Sam leaned back slightly. His face was twisted in harsh disconcertment and bewilderment.

"What...what are you saying, Sam?" Dean asked him, tone more open than it had been all night.

Sam swallowed and decisively moved his hand closer to Dean's leg not yet touching but tempting the idea. 

"I'm simply saying that maybe this was always going to be the outcome" Sam explained with a sound mind, "Have you looked at our relationship? The fact we are constantly together and have been looking out for each other for years? This type of intimacy was ingrained in us at a young age through staying in motel after motel and only having each other"

Dean's face was glued to Sam's, his eyes flashing between both eyes searching for an emotion Sam didn't know how to replicate successfully. Finally, Sam's hand landed on Dean's knee rubbing over the rough denim carefully feeling Dean tense under his palm.

"Would it be so bad?" Sam asked softly, the animalistic primal urge within him surging at the darkness shading Dean's eyes, "To have something just for us?"

Sam was expecting much more denial and refusal from Dean but a complacent shadow fell over his face as he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. Sam distinguished that the sensation making his stomach burn fiercely was arousal, uncontained lust; strong sexual desire. A raw instinct instilled in all humans making their skin sweaty and blood pump, laser-focused on one thing and one thing only.

Dean was clearly feeling the same thing as his breath grew heavier, eyes drifting down to Sam's lips which Sam licked over enticingly. His three-step plan was going exactly to schedule and the perks of having sex with Dean remained obvious to Sam. Just another notch on his belt, mission completed. He was fulfilling a deed that without searching for, deep down he had wanted for years. 

"Dean?" Sam pitched his voice, letting little brother innocence sneak in, satisfaction growing as he saw the impact it had on Dean.

All of these reactions were categorized in file folder manner within Sam's head, calculating his behaviour accordingly to fit what would work best. Feelings weren't clouding his judgement which was a plus for hunting and evidently other strenuous activities as well.

"Damn it Sam" Dean breathed out heavily, his body twitching like he was forcing himself to stay back, "This is so fucked"

It wasn't a no. That was made clear by the entice and craving blossoming on Dean's face along with his fists clenching beside him. Dean wanted this, equally if not more than Sam. If he dropped those pesky ideals about consequences and sacrifice than he wouldn't have any issue with giving in to his desires. 

Without saying a word Sam let his hand drift slowly up Dean's leg allowing time for Dean to push him away and force Sam into choosing another tactic. Dean just stared though, watching his coarse, confident hand reach his inner thigh, twitching fingers taunting to go further. Sam moved in closer, his right leg now pressed against Dean's as his face entered into Dean's personal space.

"Don't think so much" Sam said in a hushed tone, his eyes watching the bob of Dean's Adam's apple as he swallowed.

A breathy and raspy laugh escaped Dean's mouth in a gust of air, nerves skittered among his words, "Out of all people, never thought I'd hear you say that Sammy"

Another note complied, held for later use in his head. His hippocampus fully on board with recalling that piece of information. Sam wasn't the forward type clearly which is why Dean perhaps was able to accept Sam doing this. Maybe for years, Dean had been waiting and _waiting_ knowing Sam would never make a move so he was safe but everything was different now. Sam's hand was rubbing teasing circles along the seam of Dean's pant's, Sam's lips were drifting closer to Dean's visibly longing for a taste. _He_ was making all the moves, check-fucking-mate dammit.

Dean turned his head away from Sam, interest focused on the damn wall and its repeated stains. And though Sam didn't feel much these days, a pinch of fantasy annoyance stabbed at him. Though his mind was checked out his body remembered all too well feeling ignored and discarded by his brother. But it wasn't lost on Sam the effort Dean was applying to keep himself in check, to resist this inevitable force. Heat radiated through his jeans warming Sam's palm and as he looked down, a smirk twitched at his lips as he saw the diminutive tenting of Dean's jeans. 

"Dean" Sam's voice was pure infantile nature now, capitalizing on the clear effect it had on Dean, "Please"

Dean's jaw stiffened, the muscles in his cheek tightening but his resolve remained true not crumbling under the pressure of Sam's words. Sam sighed dejectedly as that had been the last tactic in his book seeing as he didn't think Dean ever once was able to say no to his brother. Not when he was hurting and desperate at least. Patience would be a virtue, in the end, Sam decided and even if he had to wait months, he had the sense to know going through with this would do them some good. He was about ready to call it a night as his muscles ached from the rope he dismantled around his wrists and a steady headache was forming at the base of his neck when he saw the tensing of Dean's shoulders.

"Fuck" Dean muttered though it was all too distinct as he turned his head sharply and grasped Sam's face.

Not a moment passed before their lips were connected and years of brotherly banter and self-sacrifice knocked the air out of Sam's lungs. Still, he didn't feel anything but heat pulsating through him, that raw urge surfacing again making its presence known through his dick hardening in his pants. Sam quickly got engaged in the program though startled by Dean's switch in character and his kisses were hard and passionate. All bite and teeth clashing as Sam easily changed his position so he was straddling Dean, their arousals pressed against each other.

Sam growled loudly, content he could drop his innocent act and achieve his objective. Dean kissed with fervour unable to hold back once he gave in and Sam was all too happy with that pace, the bitter tang of iron coating his tongue after one too-rough kiss. Sam didn't mind, if anything it activated a fundamental demand inside of him aching to ravish and satisfy. As Sam lowered Dean down onto the bed, head dizzy with his breathy moans he felt whole in the way only a person missing a piece of themselves could.

* * *

It had been months. Months since Sam was zapped back into his former self, emotions and all. Months since Sam had seen the cheery smile on Dean's face instead of a dull blank stare. Months since...well he couldn't even say it.

At first, he had remembered nothing, his memory being cleared out in a tsunami fashion as soon as he woke up but Castiel told him everything. And what he didn't tell him, Sam pieced together for himself. If the insensitive and careless murders weren't enough, his complete manipulation of his brother sent Sam spiralling into a depressive, guilty state. All the puzzles pieces lined up and forced Sam to endure the picture created. The goddess and her ugly nature, revealing Dean's secret desires to him in that mildew-soaked dungeon. But none of this was the goddess's fault, she didn't force him to touch Dean, to exploit his emotions for what? His personal gain? Fuck he was sick.

After the deed was done, Dean had rolled off of the bed soundlessly and hopped into his bed while Sam unsure and uncaring fell asleep easily. Just another item ticked off a never-ending list for him. Sam needed his soul just like Dean needed his brother, otherwise incomplete. They never did it again, especially not once Dean figured out just exactly what was wrong with his brother. Then Sam tried to fucking _murder_ Bobby and...Jesus. Sam was one knock to the head away from the nuthouse and Dean still could hardly look at him. Sure he was happy his brother was back but the smile, the coldness of his eyes it read louder than any pats on the back Dean could dish out.

Simply put, they fucked. And now that Sam was...well... _Sam_ again he could rationalize that while he didn't have a soul, it was for personal profit. You don't just fuck someone you feel nothing for even if you are dead inside. A dark side of Sam appeared that night and took advantage of Dean but underlying care and infatuation of his brother stayed. Though fucked up, Sam had no problem fucking Dean with no soul because he recognized the benefits of it along with the simple and disturbing fact that he didn't mind the idea. And he certainly could decipher now that the act itself proved to him his lust was certifiable rather than a mean's to an end.

He'd watch Dean clean his guns, those rough calloused hands gliding expertly over each piece and ricocheting memories would hit Sam. Those same damn hands skidding down his chest, dipping into each curve of his abs. His eyes would glaze over replaying the night to the best of his ability in his head, filling in the parts his brain couldn't or rather wouldn't let him remember. It seemed his body remembered better anyway as some nights he stayed up till dawn, kept awake by delusions of the tingling power of Dean's lips on his. 

Once, Sam had brought it up, tired of the dark circles ringing his brother's eyes and the lack of communication severing their discussions. It was soon after his soul had been restored and he had told Dean that they needed to talk about what happened. Dean gave him a slow, sad smile and ruffled his hair, throwing "It's good to have you back Sammy" before walking out of the room. And that was that. Dean had made his choice and was demanding Sam accept it. But they couldn't keep going like these, not with the creeping tension sliding into each lull of their conversations. It was getting to Sam more than anything and he just wanted his brother back with or without the sex. 

A few weeks later they were leaning against the Impala, beer tipped to their lips. It had been a hard hunt, blood clotted underneath Sam's white shirt now stained red. Dirt resided under his fingernails after Sam crawled away from the thing they were supposed to be burying. They were exhausted, muscles strained and bodies covered in grime. Sam watched as Dean poured half the bottle down his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing sending Sam into memory prison. The last time he had watched Dean this close his hand was caressing his thigh. Sam's eyes strayed down to Dean's bow legs, spread slightly as he sat on the hood. Subconsciously he bit his lip, his fingers twitching around his beer.

Sam couldn't forget no matter how hard he tried as was made obvious by his staring at Dean's pursed, shiny lips coated with beer which Sam wanted to lick off. His senses were constantly overpowered with _Dean_ , even going as far as fucking up their hunts. He couldn't shut off the thoughts which resulted in slow reflexes and dangerous predicaments besides hunts were the only time Dean touched him. And so Sam couldn't take it anymore, they needed to talk about it whether Dean was on board or not. 

"Dean?" Sam's tone came out raspy due to lack of use.

Dean hummed but didn't turn his head, cradling his near-empty beer in his hands.

"I can't..." Sam stopped and cleared his throat, "We have too—"

"No Sam" Dean said sharply shutting him down.

"How is this better for you?" Sam complained, anger flushing his neck.

Dean laughed bitterly and shook his head, a dull flicker of irritation passing in his eyes as he brought the beer up to his mouth again. Sam huffed and crossed his arms fully rotating his body to face Dean's.

"We need to talk about it" Sam demanded.

Dean swallowed down the beer slowly, taking his damn time to respond which only furthered Sam's distress.

"There is nothing to talk about Sam" Dean declared in that dismissive way he always did.

Quickly, Dean slid off the hood and began to walk away from Sam digging into his pocket for the room key.

"Seriously? You're fine with pretending nothing happened?" Sam followed immediately behind him, grabbing onto his shoulder even as it tensed, "Even if it destroys us?"

Dean stopped, knuckles turning white from how hard they were gripping the bottle. Sam instantly regretted letting the words slip out of his mouth but he was riding on the rush of anger and long-term tension.

"Sam"

That was a warning, Sam was bright enough to hear it. Or perhaps he just knew every infliction of Dean's too well. Sam sighed shakily and his hand slipped off of Dean's shoulder but he couldn't move. His feet were cemented to the ground as he watched the twitchy nature of Dean's features from a side-profile.

"I—" Sam's voice was hushed, secretive, "I didn't mean to hurt you"

Dean flinched at the statement, perhaps unprepared for the rawness of the admission. Triggered his 'chick-flick moment' sensors and shut down Dean's cognitive responses. Abruptly Dean turned around and shoved the room card into Sam's hand, a mixture of emotions playing out on his face.

"Don't wait up" he called over his shoulder as he trotted back to the Impala.

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed, disbelief laced in his tone.

But Dean didn't say anything as Dean was prone to do. So that was it then. Dean was going to ignore and repress until the issue was small enough to hold in his hand. Small enough to overlook but never gone. Sam had to determine...was he able to live like that?

* * *

Sam stewed in his vexation and pain for a good portion of the night, turning over the idea of packing up and leaving. Call a taxi and get on a plane, fly far away from Dean's relentless bullshit. Maybe he could start a new life, with someone who would love him and never know about his past, his stupid idiotic mistakes. But every time the thought would pass through with the other ones he would get a whiff of gun oil or leather and Dean's face would collide into his head.

If Sam had known he was possessing this deep infatuation for his brother he would have confessed years ago before his soul was ripped from his being. Why couldn't Sam have fucking realized that the longing ache in his chest when he was away at Stanford was not from homesickness which was honestly apparent considering the fact Sam had never really had a home anyway but a hole where Dean had always fit in? 

How easily Dean glid back into his life like Sam was a fool for ever thinking he could be anywhere but the passenger seat of the Impala listening to old rock and roll cassettes and watching Dean sing along effortlessly. How could he have been so dense? Maybe...Dean wasn't the only one repressing shit. 

When Dean stumbled in at three in the morning, Sam pretended he was asleep panic subsiding now that he knew his brother was safe. 

* * *

Sam spent the next week staring out of a car window, hanging onto his sanity by a thread. While his brother did what his brother did best, pretended like everything was normal. He teased Sam and sang obnoxiously on the long road trips but every night he'd creep away to bars and only came back when Sam was asleep. Sam was no therapist but he considered that to be less than a healthy habit. Dean was burying his shit under drunk conquests and passive-aggressive comments. It was driving Sam crazy watching his brother crumble due to his actions. 

Every time he heard Dean's facetious mention of leaving, a needle would pierce his skin and thread doubt and worry into him. Sam always tried to be like his brother, let things roll off his back but from a young age Sam could tell that wasn't possible. He felt too much all the time and at a point where Dean needed that from Sam...he felt nothing at all and now they were here. But Dean couldn't just...disrupt Sam's life like this. Observing smudged lipstick stains on Dean's neck, the stacking of empty bottles on the bedside table which Dean referred to as his bed-time medicine? Sam was right. It was destroying him.

Sam had reached his breaking point and no force in the world could stop the explosion.

"Heading out Sammy" Dean flippantly stated, opening the door without looking behind.

A sting of anger pin-pricked Sam and he couldn't help himself as he rushed up to slam the door from over Dean's shoulder. Shockingly Dean winced and turned around, eyes enlarged as he was faced with hostile Sam.

"What the hell dude?" Dean exclaimed, half-teasing and the other half actual annoyance.

He reached for the handle again but Sam held his weight on the door. 

"Ok, this a cute game and all but I'm not in the mood," Dean said, pulling harder but finding no luck in opening it. 

"You're not leaving until we talk" Sam commanded, eyes heavy and hard.

Dean's shoulders slumped and he turned around to face Sam, "I've already told you—"

"I don't care Dean" Sam interrupted, hurt lacing through his words, "You can't just...I won't let this go"

Dean sighed, ruffling his hand through his gel-slicked hair, "Sam, let me leave"

Dean was trying to act frustrated but Sam could see the slight tremble of his hands and shifting of his jaw. Flames emitted behind Sam's eyes, anger turning into a full-blown rage at Dean's scathing attitude. 

"Goddammit, Dean!" Sam erupted pushing and holding Dean against the door, "I'm sorry ok? I'm sorry I crossed a line when I was soulless if I could take it back I would!"

Dean clenched his teeth, eyes searing distress, "Good. Great to know. Can I leave now?"

Sam released a noise that screamed frustration as he gripped the sleeves of Dean's leather jacket, "Fuck you, Dean!"

Dean's face contorted into a snarl, lips thinning, "You already did"

The air was sucked out of Sam in vacuum quickness as his hold loosened and guilt swirled in his chest. The vibrating thrum of anger dulled to resonating agony leaving Sam shaky. 

"Can you...can you ever forgive me?" Sam's tone was soft and faint. 

Dean's eyebrows furrowed and the hurting Sam ached to see finally presented itself on his face. He sighed hastily, worry lines cutting into his forehead.

"Dammit Sam, this has nothing to do with you ok? You didn't know what you were doing"

Sam rolled the words over in his head, face twisting in confusion, "What?"

Dean bit at his lip evading eye contact, "You had an excuse, I didn't"

Sam tilted his head to the side which Dean called his "puppy face bullshit". The pieces weren't matching correctly in his brain as he deciphered Dean's complicated words. Perhaps Sam had an excuse but that didn't alter the fact he had a fucking choice and he made the wrong one. His choice was based on two factors, one of them obviously being the fact he had no soul but the other was due to Dean expressing his attraction. Soulless Sam never would have instigated _anything_ with Dean without knowing that it could not only help improve their relationship but also because deep down he had wanted it all along. Yet, Dean was speaking about it like Sam was hit with a fuck or die curse and had no alternatives. He had options...he just chose Dean. 

"You think..." Sam trailed off hoping he understood Dean correctly, "You think I didn't want to do it?"

Dean snorted, a touch of normalcy though it was covered in bitter anguish, "Sam you were fucking _soulless_ , you would have fucked a pig five ways to Sunday if I had told you it would save humanity"

Sam grimaced at his brother's example but tried to put himself back in that mindset. Sure, Sam didn't have complex feelings or a conscience but he never would have slept with Dean unless he had thought through all the consequences and perks.

"Dean you are such a dumbass" Sam said softly, "When I was soulless the only thing I was going off of was raw data"

Dean raised his eyebrows as if the sentence Sam spoke was gibberish. Sam sighed and wandered over to the bed sitting down and motioning for Dean to follow.

"Which means even when I was down to my bare essentials without any shame or morals, leaving me with instincts and the most basic of human attributes, like lust, envy, greed I—" Sam gulped knowing that what he was about to say would change everything, "—I still wanted you"

Dean who had begun moving stopped suddenly staring down at Sam with confused yet hopeful eyes. Sam nodded slowly to confirm any doubts reverberating within Dean. 

"Don't fuck with me Sam, not...not if you don't mean it" Dean said stiffly, taking one step forward and then pausing again.

The worry in Dean's tone made Sam's heart ache, full of remarkable emotion that wasn't accessible last time. 

"I didn't need to have an excuse Dean" Sam's lips were trembling, feeling so much all at once it was overwhelming, "I had you and for me, with or without a soul that was enough" 

Dean breathed in steadily, less apprehension in his expression and more longing. He bit at his lip investigating Sam like he was a mystery needing to be solved. Sam stood, his legs restless with energy. He walked over to Dean and put a hand on his shoulder, gentle with no ulterior motives. Dean stared at it for a moment, pain dancing in his eyes. 

"It wasn't you..." Dean whispered, breaking the silence of the room with the harshness of an alarm, "It was everything I wanted and it wasn't _you_ "

Sam's eyebrows furrowed in hurt as he gripped Dean's shoulder with more strength, "I know. I know but I'm here now ok? I'm here Dean" 

A touch of hesitation was traceable in Dean's features but that glaze of wanting was back. The last time Sam saw that expression, he was someone else entirely. Dean was flushed and beautiful, eyes dropping to Sam's lips and back up to his eyes. Fuck, it hurt knowing he had experienced this all before without feeling the intense pining and love. Dean wrapped an arm around Sam's lower back and pushed him closer so their chests were touching and Dean's hand stayed. Using the other hand, he brushed a stray chestnut hair from Sam's forehead, smiling softly when Sam shivered.

"Something for us" Dean stated as if he just remembered the comment from somewhere, his hand gliding down to cup Sam's cheek, "You better keep your fucking word this time"

Sam's eyebrows scrunched in confusion, unclear as to when he made such a comment when suddenly all thoughts separated down the middle in his head. Because Dean's soft, plush lips were smiling against his. Instinctively Sam's hands came up to scrunch into Dean's hair, the slick gel providing some resistance. Sam was gentle, lips gliding easily against Dean's as if they were made to be connected. Slowly Dean nipped at his lip and licked over his bottom lip requesting entrance. The kiss was heat and passion but not the same way it was last time. There was a level of sensuality in their slow and delicate movements. Sam let out a soft sigh of pleasure and Dean chuckled pulling away.

"What?" Sam smiled noticing the hint of red spreading on Dean's cheeks.

"Nothing it's just..." Dean smirked, "...It's you"

Sam's heart swelled but the tender intimacy Dean expressed could only last a moment before he was shoving Sam backwards.

"Get on the bed bitch" 

Sam rolled his eyes as he walked backwards until the back of his knees touched the bed, "And _there_ he is"

Sam's back landed on the rough knitted bedspread and seconds later Dean was on top of him, large hands grasping firmly at his head as he kissed Sam with passion. Sam's hands crept underneath the back of Dean's Meticalla t-shirt and were met with warm, soft skin. Sometimes the only thing that reminded Sam that they were both here, alive, at this moment was the feeling of flesh against flesh. Whether it was stitching Dean up or massaging out a tense muscle, the soft thrum of blood, the beating of a heart. It was enough to soften the cutting edge of fear and adrenaline. Sensually, Sam lifted the bottom of Dean's t-shirt until his brother caught on and slipped away from the kiss and out of the shirt. 

The vision of perfection gifted Sam's eyes as he observed his brother's lean, scarred torso. Flashes of hellhounds digging stripes into his chest swirled in his mind. While those times felt anything but simple in comparison to the demons they faced now that was a cakewalk. Sam blinked away the memories, he had learned years ago recalling trauma was somewhat of a mood killer and a waste of time. Especially when time was hard to come by for the boys. How did Sam know whether this would be the last moment he was able to run his hands down the curves of Dean's torso, caress the work-worn skin and trace remnants of injuries? Tomorrow was never promised for them.

"Hey Sammy"

Sam's eyes flashed up to his brothers who was shaking his head with fondness clearly aware of Sam's intrusive thoughts.

"I'm not going anywhere" Dean brushed a stray hair from Sam's face, "You're stuck with my ass"

Sam smirked jubilantly and reached around to grope Dean through his jeans, "Not the worst ass to be stuck with"

Dean rolled his eyes and shifted down Sam's body until he rested on Sam's lower thighs. His hands wandered slyly to Sam's belt, caressing the leather with his thumb as Sam gulped. For soulless Sam, this was nothing new but to current Sam it was everything. He hadn't experienced the lust circling Dean's pupils with a glint of apprehension clinging on. Sam rubbed Dean's arms comfortingly, urging him silently to go ahead and take what he wants.

Dean gathered his willpower and delicately unbuckled his belt, letting it fall open. All that was left were two pieces of fabric but Sam couldn't forget that this wasn't the first time Dean would be seeing him naked. It stung a part of his heart as Dean forged on, zipping his pants and tugging them down enough to reveal his navy blue boxers. 

"Are this mine?" Dean queried, a blinding affection piercing through his tone of annoyance.

Sam shrugged, after so many years of travelling together there really was no difference between 'mine' and 'yours'. All of their items, clothing, really any personal belongings were shared between them.

"Pretty kinky Sammy" Dean smirked, that bothersome hint of teasing lacing his words, "Wearing my underwear and all"

Sam blushed despite knowing Dean was trying to get under his skin. He never wanted to give Dean the satisfaction but when he shot him that panty-dropping stare Sam felt both breathless and agitated in the best way. 

"Shut up Dean and get on with it" Sam famously rolled his eyes and went back to watching Dean's skilled hands.

Shockingly Dean listened and slid his thumbs into Sam's waistband forcing a sharp inhale from Sam. Dean's eyes flickered away from his actions to Sam's face which was reflecting desire alongside doubt.

"No going back now Sammy" Dean explained softly, "Can't put up a wall to block this one out now that your topside" 

As per usual Dean clued into his typical anxiety but Sam wasn't nervous about going forward. He just couldn't lose Dean again, physically or emotionally. Instead of verbalizing his fears since it would most likely result in Dean making a dumb joke and calling him a chick, he simply nodded. Dean nodded back and sent an assured smile to him. Sam arched his hips up so Dean could push his underwear down reminding himself that this was nothing Dean hadn't seen before.

Instantly, to calm Sam's nerves Dean leaned down and kissed the inside of his thighs, eyes never leaving Sam's. The sparkles dancing in Dean's eyes sent shivers rolling over Sam's body as he tried to calm his breathing. His dick hardened gradually as Dean nipped and grazed his teeth along the sensitive skin, leaving small lovebites all over. A glaze blanketed Sam's eyes as he lost himself in the sensation of Dean's mouth so close to his growing arousal. Desperation boiled in his blood as he scratched at the bedspread, swallowing heavy enough to choke a bit. 

"Was it—" Sam gulped, "—Was it like this last time?"

Dean's lips hardened against his skin and Sam worried he had asked far too many questions, pried into a dimension of Dean's psyche he didn't want to recall. But rather than running out the door to drink himself into another universe Dean lifted his head and kissed a line above Sam's hips.

"No" 

The word was quietly spoken, bouncing off the walls with its deliberate softness and reverberating in Sam's ears. Dean was angry, that was sure, but not with him. Sam didn't push further on the subject much too enamoured with the feeling of Dean's plush lips travelling downwards. 

Sam let his head fall back onto the bed as Dean engulfed him with no hesitation, his technique eager and urgent. His tongue did magically wonderful things as he bobbed up and down. Never before would Sam imagine his brother sucking his dick, making pleased noises as if he was the one getting pleasured. While disgusted by the men who taunted Dean with comments of his 'cock-sucker lips' Sam couldn't help but agree with their insight now. Swollen and tinted red as they fit flawlessly around his dick sending Sam's coherent thoughts packing. All he could focus on was the perfect suction and heat making him strain so he didn't buck up.

He didn't want to wait anymore, visualized his hands wrapped around Dean's pretty locks, slick with all the product. Dean's sinful moans filling this room, replacing the weeks of regret and dirty hookups.

"Dean come on" Sam pleaded breathlessly, "I need you now"

Dean stilled, pulling off gently making Sam stifle a whimper. His eyes were glossy with craving as he ran them all over Sam's flushed face.

"Ok" Dean agreed, licking over his lips slowly, "But I drive"

Sam's eyebrows furrowed as Dean leaned over to his bedside table and pulled out lube and a pack of condoms. He flicked a condom over to Sam as he stood up and tugged down his jeans easily, then his boxers. Sam's mouth went dry as he admired Dean's half-hard dick straining against his stomach. The tip rosy and slick with precome all from sucking Sam's dick. 

"Fuck" Sam mumbled silently grateful Dean didn't hear.

Dean poured a generous amount of lube onto his fingers and reached behind himself while Sam was busy tearing his shirt off since sweat was soaking through. Once he saw Dean's plan to finger himself open Sam held out a hand to stop him.

"Woah, hey" Sam sat up, "Let me"

Dean halted but his muscles seized unnaturally as if the thought repelled him. A glint of worry gripped Dean's expression though he tried to hide it.

"Nah I can do it," Dean said flippantly.

Sam scoffed and reached for the lube which Dean clung to desperately. Sam bit his lip in contemplation, clearly, something was wrong if Dean was clutching onto the lube like a sacred emblem. 

"Why?" Sam prodded.

Dean glanced away which was the second clue to Sam that this problem ran deeper than he previously thought. Dean sighed hastily, resigned to sharing since he knew that Sam wouldn't quit until Dean told him.

"It hurt..." Dean admitted wincing at how weak his voice was, "...last time"

Sam's eyebrows flew up, his hand still floating midair for the lube. He drew it in, thoughts throttling him. Dean didn't need to say much more for him to understand, soulless Sam didn't take enough time to prepare him. Probably didn't even care. Sam felt his gag reflex activate as his skin crawled. He hated that he still looked like the person who hurt Dean. Fuck who was he kidding? He WAS the person who hurt Dean whether he knew it at the time or not. All he could do now was try and make up for his mistakes.

"I wouldn't—" Sam took a deep breath.

"I know," Dean said quietly, "But you did"

Sam ran a hand over his face wondering if this stilted pressure would ever lift from their relationship.

"I understand," Sam said genuinely, eyes shaded with distress.

Dean traced a pattern on the bedspread for a couple of moments before he glanced up and sighed while staring at Sam's regretful face, "Here"

He tossed the bottle at him, landing between Sam's legs. Sam's eyes widened as he reached for it like it was a precious artifact. He raised an eyebrow at Dean who ruffled his hair wildly, messing it up.

"I trust you, Sam" Dean's gaze fell and he stared persistently at the bedspread, "And you're not him"

The implications sank bone-deep. Dean was trying to forgive...trying to forget. And all Sam could do was take each token with patience and gratitude. Dean was a man of action meaning in less than a minute he was lying on his back, legs spread like he was prepping for a cavity search. There was a lack of ease dusting his features but he attempted to shake it for Sam's sake. Everything was always for Sam's sake. While all Sam wanted to do was make Dean forget his name, forget the trauma and be content living in his body for one day.

Sam hopped off the bed and squirted the room-temperature liquid onto his fingers, smoothing it around with his thumb to warm it up. Dean's eyes were glued to the ceiling rather than looking at Sam. A comfort thing Sam could only assume and so he didn't question it. Delicately he drifted his hand lower until it rested on Dean's inner thigh. A sharp gasp followed from Dean as Sam dropped a thumb to brush over his asshole. Dean was tense but loosening up with each tender stroke of Sam's hand.

"Relax" Sam murmured as he rubbed some of the lube on Dean.

Dean's eyes fell closed as Sam dipped the tip of his pointer finger inside, silencing a gasp from forming by biting his cheek due to the scorching heat of Dean. Sam was glad that soulless Sam had stolen these memories for himself. Sam wanted to create new ones, wanted to burn the wanting expression on Dean's face into his head. Decorate that carefully constructed wall with pictures of each swivel of Dean's hips as he sought out more of Sam's touch. He wasn't shrinking away as Sam expected but just like with hunting, instead propelled himself into the fire. Slowly Sam emerged his entire finger and began to pull out and back in, grinning softly as he felt Dean loosen around his finger until it was an easy movement.

Sam dedicated each moment to make sure Dean was comfortable, listened to every grunt and gasp for pain or distress and was thrilled that there never was any. Despite his resistance at first, Dean was completely untroubled as Sam added another finger and replicated the entire process. Sam brushed over his prostate teasingly, overjoyed with the small moan of pleasure Dean would make every time. 

When Dean felt loose enough Sam carefully slipped out his fingers checking his brother's face for any more reluctance but all he saw was blissful desire. 

"You gonna fuck my brains out now or what?" Dean suddenly exclaimed smirking lazily.

Sam sputtered at the unforeseen confidence, "You really concern me sometimes"

Sam ripped open the condom package and rolled it on then took the leftover lube and slicked himself up, secretly glad Dean had lost his nervous demeanour. If possible, Dean spread out further the desperation palpable in his expression. Sam lined himself up, his dick twitching at the mere thought of sliding in. It all felt a bit overpowering honestly. 

"If it hurts, tell me" Sam demanded.

Whereas Dean would usually tease him for being so concerned and sensitive, he just nodded seriously understanding Sam's anxiety considering what happened. Gently he nudged his hips forward, groaning at the first breach. Dean answered with a quiet grunt but otherwise remained still indicating he was fine. Sam continued to slowly enter him until he was surrounded by tightness and soul-crushing warmth. 

"Move" Dean spoke through clenched teeth, fists tensed at his sides.

"Are you—"

" _Move_ " Dean urged, shooting daggers at him with his eyes.

Sam didn't ask again, he let his hips pivot backwards until he was almost fully out and then slammed forward again. Dean let out a loud moan, panting noisily underneath Sam who could only focus on the pleasure now. 

" _Fuck_ —" Dean groaned.

A wince of pleasure hit Sam as his thrusts grew with intent, driving harder into Dean as his hands fell to his knees. Dean's eyes were cloudy and dark, reflecting a stormy night with stabs of green lightning shooting through. His cheeks were rosy and his mouth remained slightly ajar as his breathing got heavy and whiny. 

"You like that?" Sam inquired, honesty mixing in with arousal.

Dean nodded feverishly as beads of sweat formed on his forehead, "Yeah—fuck it's good Sammy"

While typically the nickname would annoy Sam to no end, a sliver of heat penetrated his senses and only added to his pleasure. The intimacy of this act along with Dean calling him a name he has heard since childhood was fucking him up beyond belief. Got him worked up to a shocking point. 

"You're so— _fuck—_ " Sam grunted cutting himself off, "—tight"

Dean whined quietly, biting his lip to evade the noise from escaping unsuccessfully. Sam grinned with the newfound knowledge of Dean's obvious interest in his dirty talk. Sam always assumed Dean would be the noisy one with constant talking and moaning but apparently, he was the opposite. Holding back every raucous noise with a swift fist to his mouth. All of that false bravado flying away the moment his brother's strong hands got all over him. 

"Harder Sam" Dean blurted, breath coming out in spurts.

The requests were creeping under Sam's skin, the gruff nature of Dean's voice usually accompanying a brooding glance but Dean's face sideways roughly stuffed into the sheets so Sam couldn't be sure what his expression was. Sam complied easily, slamming his hips forward making fireworks explode in his stomach. Dean's noises progressively increased until choked groans were slipping out with every thrust. 

"Close?" Sam asked sincerely.

Sam would have asked anything honestly just to hear the crisp growl of Dean's tone. It dragged over his nerves like sandpaper scraping his skin raw. Made him insanely turned on. Hunting with Dean was impossible sometimes when that protective raspiness would be targetted at any threat towards Sam. 

" _Fuck_ " Dean responded, which was Dean's way of saying yes.

Sam was right there with him, watching Dean's cherry-red face contort with pleasure as Sam hit the right spot. A pitchy whimper flew out as Sam's hand moved to grip Dean's twitching dick. His large hand fit nearly all the way around it which Dean must have noticed as he stared down. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as Sam pumped loving the control he had over his brother's pleasure. Dean's eyes fluttered closed as groans got strangled in his throat. Sam observed the soft pink flush flow up Dean's chest as his thrusts became more erratic into Sam's hand. With a tumultuous groan, cum painted Sam's hand forcing a moan out of his own throat. Dean was beautiful, soaked in the moonlight shining in through the window as he rutted upwards. Choked pants came in a flurry as he tightened around Sam, sealing him in warmth which made his head spin. Suddenly he was seconds away from the greatest orgasm of his life.

Empty numbness absorbed all of his troubled thoughts until he was left with nothing but bliss. Arousal with the strength of electric shocks triggering shudders through his body as he emptied into his brother. Losing all perception of fear and worry, wanting so badly to keep his brother close with all his will. Wishing away the pain he caused perhaps not by his own wishes but provoked all the same. Their heavy breathing danced the tango over their heads as Sam's hands slipped from Dean's leg and fell to the bedsheets for balance. Sam expected a heavy tension to drift in through the windows until it was suffocating Sam but all he could feel was light airiness. Maybe it was a delusion or the coital bliss? 

Dean's chest and Sam's hand were coated with streaks of cum and the insane urge to lick his fingers was quelled by Dean's gaze on him. Instead, Sam rubbed it off on the sheets mentally apologizing to housekeeping.

"That's nasty" Dean smirked, eyes threatening to close, "Now if you'd be so kind to get _out_ of me"

Sam rolled his eyes and slowly pulled out, disregarding the grimace from Dean as anything serious. His heart was beating severely, Dean was acting normal but he had been wrong about Dean's emotional state before. What if he was still angry or scared? 

"Was that..." Sam's thoughts drifted back in as he bit his lip, "Was that ok?"

Dean snorted, quirking an eyebrow, "Two brothers fucking? By society's standards, I would say no definitely _not_ ok Sammy"

Sam deadpanned skirting on the edge of slipping into a bitchface. Dean chuckled and leaned up on his elbows, ruffling his hand through Sam's hair who shook him off.

"The sex though?" Dean whistled and winked dramatically, "Better than ok, might even go down in the record books but don't go getting a big head now alright?"

Sam smirked and rolled his eyes grateful for his brother's ignorance of the serious connotations for once. While this should be life-changing Dean wasn't yelling or leaving and that meant everything might be ok.

"Seems you already have a big enough one anyway" Dean waggled his eyebrows as his gaze dropped to Sam's crotch.

Sam blushed and covered himself with his hands, "I think I liked you better when you were all sexed out" 

Sam dropped to the bed beside Dean, their sides touching but neither moving away. Sam imagined cooling cum on Dean's stomach probably wasn't enjoyable but he looked so tired he didn't seem to care. Sam breathed out heavily through his nose, counting the cracks on the ceiling.

"I'm sorry Dean" Sam felt Dean's head loll to the side to look at him, "For everything that happened before" 

Dean was quiet for a couple of seconds and Sam thought for a moment he might have fallen asleep.

"Well on the plus side soulless Sam was a suave son of a bitch" Dean smirked jokingly, "Certainly rocked my world"

"Dean," Sam said seriously, pleading with his expression for Dean to be earnest. 

Dean sighed, upset at having to express his true emotions instead of hiding under repressed humour. Sam needed this though, he needed them to be ok. And the only way they could that is if they cleared the air of this past stink. Dean's hand slinked down until it was resting on top of Sam's, wrapping his fingers loosely around it. Sam's eyes flickered down to the action and viewed Dean caressing his knuckles softly with his thumb.

"Sammy" Dean's voice dropped into a deep, sincere tone, "We're good alright? _I'm_ good...better then I have been in ages. I don't blame you for what happened."

Sam's gaze met Dean's, his eyes expressed raw honesty. It reminded Sam of the cave they were held in with Veritas where Dean was forced to emit truths. The scarlet blush when he realized he had admitted to wanting his brother. But this time, there was no hesitation or fear. Just Dean. Just his brother. Sam smiled and leaned forward to kiss Dean affectionately, breathing in briny sweat and peppermint gum. 

And that night when they fell asleep after showering arguing with Sam arguing for over ten minutes about cuddling, Sam's arms were wrapped around him tightly. As if Sam's muscle memory remembered Dean's disappearance last time. But Dean had no intention of leaving. For the first time in a long while, Dean wanted nothing more than to be trapped in a moment.


End file.
